


Stereo Heart

by Arowen12



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Australian Slang, BAMF Lúcio, Background Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, Dominant Lúcio Correia dos Santos, Explosives, Friends to Lovers, Gremlin Hana "D.Va" Song, Height Differences, M/M, Serious Lúcio, Swearing, Trans Character, Trans Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2018-12-27 20:10:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12088482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arowen12/pseuds/Arowen12
Summary: Something about the way Junkrat talked or acted just pulled Lúcio in, maybe it was the freedom in every aspect of his being, reminding him of home and the revolution, maybe a touch of something else. And then there was Roadhog  a presence there all along like a soothing balm, easing Lúcio’s nerves and helping him settle. All he knew is that he had wanted to spend more time with the Junkers, hear more of whatever inane ramblings Junkrat carried, listen to the music the large man had selected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, I am here with my first Overwatch fic (yay) starring three of my favourite characters with plenty of others on the side. Also the fic with the cliché song title. I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Overwatch and all of it’s characters are a product of Blizzard Entertainment.

X

“Angela put Junkrat down.”

The powerful voice pierced the cacophony of noise that bubbled around the common room as the team filtered in from the mission, and the others, who had been spared the mess in dealing with Talon and too many explosives, entered. Junkrat weakly struggled in the Mercy chic’s grip, eyes wide as shells as he struggled in a vain attempt to escape, at least without injuring his relatively new teammate. Kicking someone in the chest with your peg leg was apparently not good team building according to Roadhog, though Jamie was inclined to disagree (as with most things).

A breath of relief escaped his lungs at the command that echoed throughout the room like the aftereffects of one of the particularly louder bombs. Head rotating wildly where it was attached to his neck, Junkrat spotted…. And the name escaped him once more, but he recognized the figure standing in one of the doorways at least (and he looked right imposing, aura of darkness and all). Long dreads, bright green, liked music… L something. It would come to Junkrat eventually or not at all as the case usually was.

Mercy (or was it Angela?) dropped Jamie with all the care as if she was dropping a rock. Junkrat hissed a bit from where he was suddenly seated on the floor, baring a small frown before he heaved himself to his feet, with all the grace of a polar bear (which the ice queen would probably argue about). Mercy was studying him again, eyes tricky and sharp as razor, Junkrat knew better then to mess with healers, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be anywhere near them. Especially not when they kept trying to drag him into the med bay for an evaluation.

The music man forged his way through the crowd, which was simultaneously quiet as a night in the ruins, and loud as full daybreak, shifty eyes centered on the sudden spectacle. Jamie’s eyes roved around once more attempting to spot Roadie, which should have been an easy task considering the man’s girth, but the Hog was surprisingly good at hiding. Mako was stranded at the entrance from the hangar, helmet tucked under his arm, with a visible dent and one of Junkrat’s devices under the other arm.

There was an aura of worry and hesitance in the crease of his mask and the way Roadie carried himself, after knowing his partner so long (and the unyielding mask) Jamie had learned to pick up on the man’s ticks and signs, speaking without words. And Junkrat’s attention had slipped again, eyes darting between Roadhog and the musician who now stood a foot away, arms crossed and posture tense.

There was a put-upon frown on the angel (angel, Angela?) Sheila’s face, as if readying for a battle. In the corner at the flick of his still slightly frantic gaze mapping out exits, the soldier guy in blue was eyeing the situation tensely as if expecting a fight, and was ready to intervene. Jamie couldn’t blame the old man, the ‘recall’ (whatever that meant, Roadie had tried to explain it, Jamie would get it eventually) had only happened semi-recently. They were still gluing as a team, as the optimistic angel liked to encourage.

“…lived alone. Wait for them to come to you, at least unless it’s serious.”

Oh, the dreads guy was speaking, he had a nice voice all timbre and bass like the music that followed him around on the battlefield. Junkrat cocked his head following the conversation with a vague frown and furrowed eyebrow. His eyes darted to the long scratch that was gouging his leg, he studied it for a moment and shrugged. Same as before, and nothing worse then what they had already treated in the past. That was the point he had been trying to make to the Sheila, when she had picked him up by the shoulders with no small amount of effort, as if planning to cart him off to some mad house (which was veritably where he belonged some days).

The air crackled with tension and Jamie stepped back, he knew better to engage in a fight that wasn’t his. No point in senseless violence without cause, otherwise it was just trying to get yourself killed, at least in the Outback.

Instead Jamie’s eyes flickered to Mako as he took a few more steps back putting distance between himself and the healers. The large man shifted his head in a bare nod and Junkrat took comfort in the small gesture before his gaze darted back to the small confrontation.

A puzzled frown marred Junkrat’s lips as he considered the small man (and he was small, but then everyone seemed tiny to Junkrat), he had been of the ones to meet them when they arrived right? Maybe? Jamie thought so, he remembered someone really optimistic, short, with lots of green, but that didn’t quite fit the bill, as Jamie didn’t recall the man being so intimidating. Still if Junkrat talked to the guy he would probably remember better, action was always better at jogging his poor excuse of a memory.

The blond chic’s gaze darted over towards Junkrat, and Roadhog’s rather imposing form behind him, before her wings drooped slightly (and aw the poor bird Junkrat thought with a coddle and a laugh), she hesitated before consenting with a sharp nod, staring hard at the tiny musician.

Man, Jamie did not want to get on a healer’s bad side…. Unless he was trying to escape treatment, that he was prepared to die for. With that nod, the tense situation dispersed and after a few minutes of darting glances and hushed whispers the noise level picked up one more, and Junkrat was itching to leave the room.

The only time in the Outback you were in a room with so many people, was a bar, or a fight, and a bar usually devolved into a fight. So, no Junkrat was not keen on remaining in the common room any longer then he had to. As if sensing Jamie’s rising ire… or maybe anxiety emotions were complicated, Roadhog stepped forward large gait and a miasma of chains announcing his presence behind Junkrat.

A large hand landed on his shoulder (one that always seemed large enough to wrap around his torso, and what it did under the sheets, Jamie was probably blushing thinking of it), and Junkrat nodded quickly eyes searching the crowd as he mumbled under his breath about the next batch of explosives he would need to whip up. He caught the gaze of the musician and nodded once in gratitude before he turned to Roadhog with a wide bright grin a bit brittle around the edges, that beckoned the larger man on.

Mako sighed, whether in exasperation or amusement Junkrat could never tell, and led the way out of the crowded room and into the one of the side hallways that would lead… somewhere. That was one thing Jamie loved and hated about the base, it was huge, and built like a maze with endless hallways, and rooms, which meant that Junkrat got to have fun exploring, but it also meant he often got incredibly lost.

Mako had a great memory compared to Jamie, and seemed to have already memorized all the passageways. Which was a good thing as otherwise Rat would be wandering the hallways till he found a room that suited his fancy.

As soon as they were far enough away from the crowded room, Junkrat grabbed the straps on Roadhog’s back and swung himself up to perch on one of the big guy’s shoulders. He was thankful that they had another giant on the team…. Rei… Hart… something, he looked like a knight and was kind of taller then Roadie which was awesome in Junkrat’s books, it also meant super high ceilings.

Swaying on Mako’s shoulders, Jamie studied his nail polish with a sceptic eye as he began talking about the mission. It was a soothing thing, a habit he was far too used to, to ever attempt dropping. He talked. It was part of the package deal the two of them had brought to Overwatch, that and explosives, plus the following carnage.

“And then ta talon bastard thinks it a mighty fine idea, to pull out a puny little thin’ and toss it at me! Me! And of all the blasted times, ta cowboy pulls out his watch and bullet’s fly.”

Junkrat rambled swinging his legs against the muscular chest below him, Roadhog grunted a bit at the story, which was all the encouragement Rat needed to continue detailing the rather messy mission. Which when Jamie took the time to reflect, was all their missions. But that was fine Junkrat liked that just fine, because messes and explosions went hand in hand, like the burning heat and the Outback.

The Sheila with the blue tech on the other hand was not a happy camper (was that even an expression? Junkrat shrugged and tried to continue his train of thought before it completely derailed again). She was all one for order, funny considering the dictatorship her company sprouted. They got along well enough, in a weird kind of understanding way, knowing each other’s differences Jamie supposed. But well, being stuck in a lab together had not been the ape’s greatest idea.

That was why his lab was in a far corner of the base, where they used to test and build certain anti-omnic weaponry during the glory days or whatever of Overwatch. Which had been fine with Junkrat once they blew up the lifeless robotic bodies lying like corpses; had given him the right shivers first time they walked in and flicked on the lights.

At least Junkrat was still welcome in the main lab to tinker and build, however explosives and other dangerous detonations were relegated to the outer lab. It was an escape for Jamie and Mako, at least from the rest of the base for a time.

A large hand ruffled the patches of hair still sprouting from his scalp, sending ashes and a drift of smoke into the air, the fires were probably out again, but Junkrat could never be sure. He barely knew when it was burning in the first place.

“Jamie.”

Mako’s deep rumbling timber voice said, in that way that carried a thousand emotions captured in a single sentence; it always left warmth (the good kind, as supposed to the too damn bloody hot kind) flushing his chest. Once they had really shared names, Mako took pleasure in calling Junkrat by his name in private, though they were always their Junker names upon the field.

Swinging to the side after shaking the cobweb thoughts of other things that grasped with sticky fingers, Junkrat stared into the opalescent discs of Roadie’s mask seeing nothing but floating darkness. An arm rose and pointed forward, with a quirk of bushy brows Jamie follow the hand to the entrance to the lab. Letting out a small crow of delight at the sight Junkrat clambered down from Roadhog with the speed and efficiency born of practice, and bounded to the door entering the key pad number (one of the few things he always bothered to remember) and entered.

The smell of metal was as poignant as ever as he strutted into the room, the dull clang of his prosthetic echoing along the floor, his eyes swept over everything taking it all in and cataloguing every little detail. It wasn’t easy to let go of old instincts, and Junkrat didn’t plan on doing so, not when they could save his life.

The working desks were piled against the walls as usual, blueprints stacked and crumpled everywhere (and it was a real right joy to have paper to actually write ideas down on), the old saggy couch that Mako had dragged in from who knows where, and the collection of explosives strewn around the room. There were a few other things, Junkrat observed laying on the floor or carefully placed out of his reach.

Striding further into the room, Junkrat beelined towards the far desk where some of his tools were, and some of Torbjörn’s tools were (the old dwarf had watched Jamie tinker for a day before he had handed them over with a wink). Once there he whipped around catching Mako settling into the couch (which was surprisingly comfy), and gestured for the beat-up helmet.

It was sailing before Rat could nag the man about waiting and patience, and he caught it with a touch of exertion and a slide backwards. Even when trying to control his strength Roadie was pure muscle, which Junkrat had no qualms about at all. Settling onto the stool perched at the desk, Junkrat giggled as some of Roadhog’s music lilted from a small stereo stashed somewhere Junkrat couldn’t find and proceed to tinker with it.

It was something Mako called classical, but he wasn’t sure what genre the man meant, still it was good when the music got loud and powerful. Otherwise it was mostly dull, with a touch of awesome.

Settling into work Junkrat picked up the helmet and started inspecting it, holding it up to the flickering overhead lights, and studying the damage with a critical eye. Before he could actually start working Mako’s voice echoed in the semi-octagonal room, “Your leg.”

“Oh yeah right, right.”

Jamie chimed as he glanced down at the dried blood staining his leg and the still rather there gash. The dull pain that was sort of usual, became more pronounced like a deep thud, and Junkrat pouted and decided he would ‘take care of’ the wound first if only to alleviate Mako’s worries. The man could be surprisingly mothering about his partner, which considering who his partner was… well it was a positive habit to say the least.

Springing to his feet once more (though it was more of an awkward shuffle than a spring) Junkrat hobbled towards one of the supply cabinets, Jamie was pretty sure it used to hold a lot of very dull paper, and pulled out a thick roll of gauze they had swiped from a pharmacy during one of their missions. They were not yet ready to brave the angel chic’s domain, not at least for a pair of bandages.

Wiping off the dried blood with a bit of spit and the leg of his trouser, Junkrat wrapped the wound loosely. After studying his work for a moment, and muttering about psychotic angels, Junkrat decided the job was done well enough and shuffled back towards to the work table at Roadhog’s satisfied grunt.

The helmet was a right easy fix once Rat brought out the hammer and the blowtorch (which some would say was unnecessary but hey Junkrat liked fire and a chance to use it). A bit of whacking here and there and the shape was spic, span, and bowl-like. He tinkered with the thing for a few moments, inspecting the support and structures before he pulled out a small can of paint they happened to keep damn near everywhere (because one could never have enough black, or toxic yellow, especially for decoration).

After fixing up the paint job in a moderately decent fashion that was better then finger painting, Junkrat set the helmet aside leaving it for Mako’s inspection. Pulling out the device Roadhog had been lugging under his other arm, Junkrat frowned as he inspected it.

He had expected the blast radius to be larger, and he wondered if the mixture of compounds and elements had been imbalanced. Or maybe shaking it a ton in front of a poor talon sap’s face had not been a good idea. Oh well it had still blown up near everyone cloying his space. Focusing on the bomb once more with a giggle at the thought of the explosion, Junkrat carefully and efficiently picked it apart, pulling out wires and depositing them against the side here and there, along with the twin cans he had used for the compartment. If there was one thing he strived for with certain objects was the ability to salvage or reuse.

Regular bombs (though how could any of his bombs be considered regular truly?) however could stay implanted in a wall or a limb in shattered shrapnel for all he cared. Junkrat talked under his breath as he analyzed the data, picking up on the wires that were singed by the blast and the location in correspondence with the center and reaction of the blast. It would help him idolize which wire coating suited a certain reactant better. The blue rubber ones were usually not a good idea, unless Junkrat wanted a fake or short fuse.

Junkrat’s head popped up from the workstation briefly, he idly stretched laughing and giggling at the plethora of cracks that wrapped his body when he stretched. The music was reaching a crescendo one of those fast pieces that got his blood pumping, it kind of reminded him of what he had heard of the music man’s songs. Popping a look at Roadhog who was still settled in the couch, only with the addition of a book (mainly blasted useless things, cept for the explosive ones, and for burning). Nodding to himself and humming Junkrat returned his attention to the dismantled parts settled on the work table.

Just as he was beginning to settle into that work mode hyper focus he liked, a loud knock resounded along the opening to the labs. Junkrat cocked his head frowning a bit at being interrupted, tongue pinched between his teeth, and brow furrowed as he sent a hasty curious look towards Roadie and then the door.

They had left it open for the most part, no need to close it when they hardly received visitors, and plus entering and exiting through a door was a real hassle in Rat’s books (why do that, when you could just blow a hole in the wall). Junkrat debated answering, wondering if it was the blonde Sheila hunting them down, or the old soldier trying to scold them again. Deciding he could ignore them if it was such a visit Junkrat answered with a loud yell, “Yeah?”

The door shifted a bit before swinging open and admitting the small man who had stood up for him earlier. He glanced around the room with an impressed look on his features (though Junkrat thought if he knew how much of the floor was covered in explosives it would probably be one more of horror), hands settled on his hips, eyes bright and visible without the green visor thing.

He paused eyes furrowing in question, and pulled out one of the buds jammed in one of his ears (he always seemed to have one, at least for all of Junkrat had seen him). The music man smiled, it was a nice one all gentle warmth and cute, kind of sent his heart fluttering in his chest, and asked, “Is that Chopin? Man, I love his music!”

Roadhog cocked his head from where he had been for the most part pretending to ignore their sudden guest (Jamie could tell he was still paying attention by the way the book was settled across his lap) a surprised but agreeable grunt sounded from his partner’s mask and Junkrat grinned. Anyone who liked the ‘classical’ music earned a star in Roadie’s books.

The pig was studying the man in green at the front of their lab, he nodded slowly at the shifting musician who was playing with the strings of his ear buds a hesitant tilt of his lips playing across his features.

“Sweet, can’t make music without knowing the classics.”

The music man said eyes brighter then before, Junkrat vaguely recalled that the man did indeed make music (and oh yeah wasn’t that how he healed them. Also speed which was fun). Junkrat shrugged and cocked his head wondering why the man had decided to visit their little corner of the base, when Jamie knew he could be hanging out with Buns (the gamer chic who was pretty nice, Junkrat was pretty sure her and the music man were friends).

“Sorry for intruding, I just wanted to make sure you’re both okay?”

The musician said with sincere concern lining his voice, eyes deep as the omnic pits. Junkrat cocked his head gaze darting towards Hog, he was almost one hundred percent certain the big guy wasn’t injured, really the only major wound they had sustained in battle was the now bandaged gash on Jamie’s leg. Still it was nice of the healer to come and check on the two of them, the others didn’t really bother as much.

“Right as rain, all bandaged up. But ya can check if ya like.”

Junkrat responded gaily as he tinkered with a one of the canisters in his hand, he was pretty sure it was the one containing the gas… he knew there was an actual name for the thing (a whole table of elements to experiment with, that had been an awesome field day), but he couldn’t recall the name. It mattered little, in the Outback he had his own names for the elements and their properties.

The musician frowned faintly all gentle and caring concern, there was a softness about him again; one that Junkrat vaguely recalled from their first meeting. It was nothing like the earlier scene in the common room, he wondered at it briefly, but eventually chalked it up to the man’s past, or something like how there was Roadhog and there was Mako, the names were interchangeable as a bolt, but the people were completely different.

The musician was looking at him, Junkrat must have zoned out again (he did that sometimes, too many thoughts and not enough time). It looked like the shorty had asked a question, if only for the curiosity on his features so he threw out a quick sentence, “Sorry lad didn’t catch that.”

The musician laughed, it was a nice sound, all light and like the air; thunder and wind, made Junkrat want to hear it again. Jamie brushed aside the silly thoughts and joined the musician in laughing, because hey it was good and fun to laugh, made things brighter.

“Sorry, I was just asking if I could see the bandages, better if I see, then Mercy has no reason to haunt you guys.”

The musician said with another one of those smiles all encouraging like, lit up his features like living music. Junkrat pursed his lips, he had offered in the first place, more of a whim then an actual thought to the process as usual but the music man had good motives so he nodded and stuck his good leg out so that the healer could see the bandage.

The musician grinned and skated over, Junkrat studied the skates, they had a bunch of tech built into them, and a on a certain level he knew they helped him with his healing/music. But also, Junkrat thought they were super cool, because skating everywhere was also awesome in his eyes.

“Is it alright if I call you Junkrat, or do you want me to call you anything else?”

The musician asked as he arrived at the desk, eyes lingering a touch on Jamie’s face before his gaze observed the desk and the bomb laying in pieces. If he had any worries about sudden explosions it didn’t show on his features which Junkrat appreciated.

“Junkrat’s fine… sorry mate but what’s ya name again my memory’s as blasted as ta Outback.”

He spouted with a curve of his lips, before he paused an apologetic expression swiftly gracing his features. Sometimes he hated his memory, if only because he wanted to avoid the faint crestfallen expression that whirled across the musician’s features before it was swept away by…. Sympathy? Pity? Junkrat wasn’t certain, and he wasn’t certain on how he felt about it so he ignored the little claws of irritation.

“Lúcio’s the name, and don’t worry about it, there’s over twenty people in the base. I’d be surprised if you managed to remember everyone.”

Lúcio chirped, and Junkrat let a beaming smile settle onto his features as he finally had a name to the person. Lúcio it was a good name, suited the young man (unlike Horhae that was a man undeserving of such a name).

“Yeah, Roadie’s ta one wit ta memory, me nah usually doesn’t happen, even when I try it’s a real right bludger.”

Junkrat responded with a grin the tension and guilt he had been feeling dispersing with the light exchange of words between the two. Lúcio laughed again, though it was more of a breathy quiet kind of laugh. Junkrat decided then and there that making the frog laugh would be a good idea (frog, it suited him, with the green and small stature, plus the emblem on his tank… though it didn’t quite fit right yet).

Lúcio made to bend down on one knee and look at Jamie’s leg, but Junkrat intervened and swung his leg up onto another nearby stool, wobbling a bit on his own stool as his peg leg became the only thing grounding him. A look of concern and worry filtered over Froggy’s face as he watched Junkrat sway a bit on the stool and land firmly with a wide grin, but it was replaced soon enough as his gaze was drawn to the wrapped leg.

“It looks pretty good from here, are you in any pain? I can play some of my music to help you heal faster?”

Lúcio choraled after a few minutes of studying the leg with tongue pinched between his lips, and brows furrowed. It was a cute expression, but Junkrat buried that thought and instead focused on the apparent bundle of wires in his hand. Huh he must have switched the canisters out while he was thinking.

He considered the healer’s offer and question for a moment before shaking his head and responding, “Nah mate no pain other than ta normal shite. Music’s always welcome plenty here, just gotta consult Roadie as he’s the DJ here.”

Lúcio grinned at the answer, before a slight hesitance twisted his features as his gaze travelled over to Roadhog. The big lug was watching the whole scene play out with a sort of disinterest, ready to intervene if Junkrat needed.

“Ah him, don’t worry bout Hog he wouldn’t hurta kitten. And he sure won’t hurt ya Froggy, least I don’t think he would right Hoggy?”

Junkrat said ending with his usual boisterous tones as he assured the reluctant musician. Roadhog nodded and let out a grunt of agreement and Jamie responded with a wide grin. Good, it was good that Roadhog liked Lúcio because usually they had a sense for the bad nuts, and when one of them didn’t like someone it was usually a good indicator. And the DJ seemed like a genuinely nice person (which was always a novice experience for Junkrat).

A puzzled expression slipped across Lúcio’s face lightning fast, leaving Rat to guess at whatever the DJ was questioning. The healer looked over his shoulder to Roadhog who flashed the shorty a thumbs up which was about good as the DJ could expect from his usually silent partner.

“Cool, I have my speakers here already so it shouldn’t take too long.”

Lúcio responded with a grin, the tension lining his shoulders faded and was gone with the wind. The quiet music that had been singing in the background abruptly cut out, and the musician took that as his que to fiddle with one of the circular things on his legs (Mako probably knew what is was).

A near minute later music bounded out, it was the same kind of kicks that Junkrat heard when they were in the field together. It sent lightning coiling through his veins, like when the storms built up across the plains, the air crackling with tension. He felt alive more energized and hyper then he usually was, like if he turned around and stared at the worktable he could invent or recreate something brand new.

Instead Jamie focused on Lúcio’s features as the music continued to play, his eyes had slid shut and he looked relaxed all smooth and sharp lines that Junkrat could study without being yelled at. His fingers were tapping at his thigh, head swaying a bit to the rhythm.

It was like when Junkrat lit a fuse, that mind-numbing pleasure as the soon to come explosion spiked his nerves with bliss. It was different for Lúcio, more of a soft kind of joy, compared to the chaotic fires that sprung up whenever Junkrat watched one of his creations unfold. Roadhog had his thing to, his happiness, kink, or whatever else he wanted to call it. That soft radiant joy when he spotted a small animal (it was always fun when they adopted one for a short time, he still missed weasel).

The vibrant energy drifted off into a quieter beat, one that was all passion, drums, and early mornings. Lúcio’s eyes flicked open to reveal soft brown eyes, and Junkrat leaned back against the desk good leg swinging off from it’s perch and opening up a seat for the musician.

“Wanna sit down?”

Junkrat questioned, deciding he wouldn’t mind hanging out longer with Lúcio. The musician stared for a minute studying Junkrat’s face as if looking for honesty or some other intentions, his eyes briefly caught Jamie’s own. It was like being caught in a sandstorm, near inescapable and damn overwhelming. Never a fan or holding eye contact unless it was with Roadie Junkrat quickly slid his eyes away. A kind of light smile danced across his lips as he tentatively waited for the shorty’s answer.

“You sure I wouldn’t be bothering you two?”

Lúcio asked concern in his voice as one of his hands reached up to brush his long dreads over his shoulders. Junkrat strained his head a bit to see past the Frog, eyes catching the empty soles of Hog’s mask he asked a silent question and received a sharp nod in return. Giggling a bit under his breath Junkrat responded, “Nah mate s’not a problem at all. Take a seat if ya like.”

Lúcio grinned and skated over to the seat before he gently lowered himself onto the plastic thing that wobbled a bit before settling. His fingers tapped against his thigh contrasting sharply against the bright metallic blue of his skates that caught Junkrat’s eyes. It reminded him of the sea, and the coast, the long stretches of beach and actual real good sand.

Nodding to himself slightly as the faint music pulsing from the stereo grew in tempo and volume Junkrat turned his attention to the desk where one of his instruments was smoking slightly, that was mostly not good, but also could be fun.

“What are you working on?”

Lúcio questioned curiosity framing his features, Junkrat wanted to beam at the question. A few members of Overwatch had questioned the method to his madness, or more specifically his explosions and all their glory. But they were mostly the techy members, and the ape who had been concerned about the potential detonation of one within the base. Having someone ask just because they wanted to know or were curious (which at least Junkrat supposed was why Lúcio was asking, he would give the musician the benefit of the doubt).

“Disassembling ta bomb from ta field, ta blast radius was small to what I wanna see. This wire is one…”

Junkrat rambled about the different parts, pulling them out and carefully showed them to Lúcio, demonstrating or explaining their use within the bomb and their properties that allowed it to function. He continued to prattle for a bit as he explained why he was dissecting it in the first place and what he had found so far.

Half of his attention was centered on Lúcio, glancing over every so often to catch faint admiration and the still eager curiosity. The other half was focused on the desk hunched over in a vague semi-circle that allowed the musician to glimpse what he was working on.

“What bout ya, and ya music. Hows that work?”

Junkrat asked, remembering some long lost conversational lesson about asking about others as well. Lúcio grinned all bright as the neon lights of the cityscape, he gently gestured to his hip where one of those spiny disk things were and said, “This is a turntable built into my skates it allows me to play my music. Originally the tech was Vishkar Corporation but I stole it from the bastards and repurposed it…”

Lúcio’s eyes flashed dark as a summer storm as he mentioned Vishkar, the expression was gone within an instant as the musician continued to describe how the tech involved the use of sonic devices, and how he had incorporated his own music into the tech.

Junkrat listened with a happy kind of tilt to his lips continuing to tinker with the bomb in his hands even as he turned to face Lúcio. It was all actually very interesting to Junkrat, the idea that sound and in consequence music could empower people so. It was like an explosion sometimes they were purposed for good, other times not so much (which were often some of Junkrat’s favourite times). And the science behind the tech was interesting, Junkrat was more experienced with the handy side of science, but soundwaves, vibrations, and the like, were all still interesting concepts.

What Lúcio had done for his country, in fighting the oppression and the company, well it made Junkrat grin because anyone who fought the damn suits had balls of steel beneath whatever other exterior, and earned a star of respect from Junkrat.

As the musician spoke his hands swept about his head, helping to tell his story as he vocalised his happiness or frustration his expressions wide and varied as the weather patterns Junkrat had experienced in the Outback.

“And that’s basically how the tech works, I’m still trying to improve it, and I’m always trying to create better music. But I’m so thankful that I have it.”

Lúcio finished with a shrug leaning against the desk behind him after a careful peripheral view of the workstation (a wise idea, continuing the many times Junkrat had planted his elbow in a paint can, or other nefarious things). Junkrat grinned eyebrows curling together as he thought over the information before commenting with a bright grin that was all encouragement and mirrors, “Tech’s not my best but ya sound like ya gotta decent setup. However, if ya ever need explosives,” Junkrat’s eyes lit up a like an atomic bomb and his grin was a touch manic as he continued, “Then I’m ya man.”

Lúcio laughed, deep and bellowing in the otherwise empty lab, Junkrat joined in again happy to add his laughter to the mixture. Eventually they settled down, Junkrat wheezing for breath even as the musician panted cheeks rosy, and a grin on his lips.

The shorty surveyed the area again, eyes darting to the collection of bombs, landmines, and traps scattered on the left side of the room in an eclectic pile that looked nothing short of a junk pile of scraps (which Jamie was plenty fine with).

“Are those all explosives?”

Lúcio asked with a touch of wary, that was overpowered by blatant curiosity. Junkrat liked that and grinned for it, with a bit of a swing he pointed his arm at one pile that was largely painted yellow with a touch of orange for fun and said, “Nah mate, see those in the orange are my mines, and ta ones in the toxic yellow with ta stripes are some of my small bombs, ta traps are the bear jaw things, cause ya know I’ve met tons of bears in ta Outback.”

Lúcio grinned nodding as Junkrat pointed out the individual devices of his trade, ending with a joke and a wide grin. Lúcio stared for a second, eyes wide before he cracked and started giggling, Junkrat laughed and joined in. The two were hunched over their seats, precariously maintaining balance, as their laughter bounced around the desolate lab, Roadhog’s deep chuckles quietly echoed their much louder laughter.

“Man, ha I needed that.”

Lúcio said with a grin as he panted for breath staring at Jamie, gaze flickering to Roadhog with a soft smile. Junkrat smiled and nodded happily hands reaching for something to tinker with.

“So, did you design all of the bombs and traps you use?”

Lúcio asked and Junkrat mimed looking around before leaning in close enough for breaths to mingle, hand splayed against his chest, and whispered in a whisper that was more of talking all breathy and said, “Trade secret… but yeah mate all mine.”

Lúcio laughed softly at the dramatic display settling against the desk, Junkrat grinned and followed the other’s example pursing his lips for a moment, taking the time to tentatively run a hand through his hair to disperse ash and soot like a cloud of sprites into the air.

Glancing at Lúcio again, noting the calm look on his features as music pumped from the speakers all bass and singing rhythm, Junkrat tilted his head with a curve of his lips and asked, “So what got you into music?”

X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, it was really fun to write from Junkrat’s point of view, and figure out how he saw the world. I’m excited to write what happens next, and here’s to hoping for updates. Thank you all for reading reviews/comments are always appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, we are back with the next chapter. I hope you all enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> Overwatch and all of its characters are a product of Blizzard Entertainment. Mountain Dew and Dorito are trademarked products that I do not own.

X 

Lúcio shifted against the warmth squished against his side, pressing closer to the soft heat. He wanted to slip back under the gentle waves of sleep that had pulled him under, he felt comfortable and safe. It was a strange yet welcoming feeling with the occupations of his lifestyle. Yawning Lúcio shifted again in a faint stretch and let his eyes blink open fluttering rapidly to adjust to the sudden influx of light.

Lúcio stared at his surroundings for a moment; lost as to where he was. It came back to him slowly as if he was still waking from a dream, he had visited the spare lab he knew the Junkers had claimed, worry still gnawing at him about Junkrat’s injuries.

He had entered, and helped heal Junkrat’s wounds, laughing with the energetic man who kind of reminded Lúcio of a puppy. Boundless energy, eyes like living fire, a bright smile that beckoned and pulled like a magnet, the heavy smell of gunpowder and metal that coated the whole lab. Something about the way Junkrat talked or acted just pulled Lúcio in; maybe it was the freedom in every aspect of his being, reminding him of home and the revolution. Roadhog had been a presence there all along like a soothing balm, easing Lúcio’s nerves and helping him settle. All he knew is that he had wanted to spend more time with the Junkers, hear more of whatever inane ramblings Junkrat carried and to listen to Roadhog’s music.

So, he had accepted the invitation for a seat, and they had talked about explosions and their power, music and it’s inspiration in his life. They had laughed at the jokes Junkrat pulled that were so random and over the top that they left Lúcio breathless. It had honestly been what the musician had needed after one too many stressful missions, and the crash courses on healing Mercy had been giving him.

Eventually Lúcio had drifted over to Roadhog, leaving Junkrat to his tinkering and mumbling. The large man had been settled on the huge lumpy tan orange couch (it was a monstrosity if he had ever seen one), the giant had looked up and tilted his head in welcome, book perched on his lap.

Lúcio had settled onto the couch and promptly sunk like quick sand into the lumpy cushions, but it was comfy in a way that screamed home. Lúcio had been content to listen to the music Roadhog had played; all classical, and man he had just loved that, the way it just captured one’s soul. It had been serene to sit there beside the man, bask in the music and just deflate in a way that hanging with Hana would never manage (mainly because they were often too busy yelling at her computer screen, or gossiping).

Eventually, after darting his eyes enough times at the book cover hidden by one of Roadhog’s large hands, Lúcio had asked after the name of the book. Roadhog had stared at him for a minute before lifting his finger to reveal a textbook on modern warfare. After a hesitant moment Lúcio had questioned the man about the book, receiving vague grunts and nods that somehow conveyed a sense of agreement or disagreement. 

Roadhog hadn’t seemed annoyed by the attention, and it was nice to talk to the man and receive a few noncommittal answers in return. Even if it seemed like he wasn’t listening underneath the mask, Lúcio was certain he was if only because Roadhog seemed a lot deeper than the mute and dumb persona he liked to project. Lúcio had summarized it was the same way with both Junkers, appearances could most certainly be deceiving, Lúcio knew that well.

Before Lúcio had known it, the weight of his eyelids had become heavy with wear and so he had let them slide shut, not really thinking about falling asleep just resting his eyes. But the calming waves of music had rocked him into content drowsiness. The last thing he remembered was the warm sensations of the body on the couch next to him and a fading sonata. He must have fallen asleep some time after that, just drifting on drowsy currents.

Looking around Lúcio spotted Roadhog who he was pressed against head formerly resting on the man’s large bicep, the same book from earlier was held between his fingers though it looked miniature in scale to his large hands. Junkrat was still tinkering away at the desk, bangs, and other various noises emitting from the workshop along with a few mad cackles here and there. Lúcio doubted the Rat had barely moved since the musician had drifted over to the couch, he seemed the man to be drawn into his work. 

Sometimes Lúcio got like that, when the inspiration really struck him hard, like a lightning bolt. And nothing else mattered after that; just finishing the piece, pouring his soul and all the ideas into the creation before him.

Roadhog shifted and looked down at Lúcio who was still blinking a bit blearily trying to clear the sleep from his eyes, and the wandering thoughts from his mind with little success. With a soft non-invasive push of Roadhog’s large hand that was all gentle and supporting Lúcio was sitting upright once more. Yawning again he stretched his arms over his head, feeling relief at the small pops and crack, he let his gaze seek out a clock somewhere in the room.

Eventually his gaze landed on a manual clock, half-cocked open with the inner mechanisms ticking away for all the world to see. He furrowed his brow wondering if the time on the face of the clock was correct, he shot a quick questioning glance Roadhog’s way. The beast of a man was still looking at Lúcio and followed his gaze before he nodded, Lúcio smiled in thanks letting the warmth of the gesture shine in the corners of his lips.

Then he considered what the time actually was and he breathed out in surprise, eyes a touch wide. He hadn’t meant to stay for so long and so late into the evening, then again, he hadn’t meant to fall asleep either. But Lúcio honestly couldn’t feel too upset about it, he hadn’t planned much for his afternoon in any case, he had wanted to work on his music but that had been more of a chore.

He loved creating music, loved it from the depth of his soul, never wanting to stop. But his manager was a fan of deadlines, certain quality to his music, and the like, all so Lúcio could maintain his fame. Personally, he wasn’t a fan of it; it was a draining practice that left him staring at the screen of his computer for hours trying to bring out a single note.

He was still debating keeping the man as his manager, though it wouldn’t dissuade the record company he was labelled to, and their deadlines. Perhaps he could go independent again? That had been so much easier, pick a venue, play and create what he wanted.

He had never been in it for the money. It had always been that love of music, sound, noises, emotions, that flooded his veins, spiked in his head and thoughts, drummed through his fingers, chased his words. And when that had turned to revolution and fame, he had let it because helping people, that was something he could live for, especially when it was through his music.

Lúcio often felt astounded when he received comments or fan letters or the like, stating how his music had saved their lives. These were people on a completely different continent but his music had still made a difference. 

Which reminded him of Hana, and the fact that he had somewhere he needed to be. It was game night and heaven forbid he missed one of their nights for any reason. Lúcio thought of the tall gamer (and no he was most certainly not bitter about his height, he had accepted his place as short well enough), with a fond smile as he pulled himself from the quicksand couch and into a standing position. He swayed a bit on his feet before regaining his gravity.

Lúcio took a last long look at the lab the Junkers had taken over, it was homey in a strange sense, with all it’s clutter and explosive devices, but Lúcio could feel the spirit of the place the two brought with them, and that was what counted in the end.

Turning to Roadhog, the musician smiled a touch, sad at having to leave and said, “I’ve got to go, it was nice hanging with the both of you. Can you tell Junkrat I said goodbye? I don’t want to disturb his work.”

His words were sincere, eyes as honest as he could muster. Briefly his gaze darted over to the table where Junkrat was happily cackling and banging at an unforeseen object, sparks flying from the workstation. Glancing back at Roadhog he noticed the man slowly incline his head in an answer. Lúcio got the vague impression that under the mask Roadhog was smiling, the thought brought an akin expression to his own lips and with a small wave goodbye he skated towards the doorway.

Stopping under the archway Lúcio pivoted into a half turn flashing a last wave and a smile before he entered the chilly hallways that permeated the Overwatch base. He had no idea why they were kept so cold, perhaps upon Soldier 76’s request? Or Mei’s? Though he doubted anyone would be willing to plunge the base into subzero temperatures like the ice woman sometimes seemed to want. 

Casting a last look at their base of operations, he vowed to visit again. If the others wouldn’t take the step forward to talk to the estranged Junkers then Lúcio would be happy to in their place. He couldn’t really blame the other members though.

On the outside the Junkers appeared exactly how they were, crude, gory, and a touch insane. But when Lúcio considered their situation he could understand why, and respect them for how they were. Sure, they had been criminals before being inducted, but they weren’t out there to kill for fun. Maybe that was a thin distinction but it was enough for Lúcio. 

It was funny how sometimes the others forgot that he had been born and raised in Brazil, and sure it was a great county (he was very proud thank you). But things had happened even before Vishkar corporations, and he hadn’t grown up in the richest neighbourhood.

Shaking away despairing thoughts, Lúcio pulled out his earbuds and attached one, plugging in the music and letting his swirling thoughts settle and calm as he skated towards Hana’s room. Thoughts toeing the line, wondering what games they would play.

Eventually he arrived at the door, a touch colder then he liked, blasted with stickers, and panels depicting gamer logos and a poster of Hana, mech suit and all in a daring pose with explosives in the background. Smiling fondly just looking at the door, Lúcio raised his hand to knock just as the door flung open revealing the Korean gamer.

They both blinked in partial and faint shock, Lúcio’s hand gently falling to his side before with a huff of laughter he began giggling, Hana happily joined in between a moment and the next; eyes bright as her computer screen as she hunched over panting for breath, cheeks red and rosy accompanied by her familiar pink stripes.

As she straightened Lúcio could see evidence of her recent gaming stream (or binge depending on the game), there was Dorito dust around her mouth and he was almost certain he could spot a few stains that looked suspiciously like a certain energy drink. He had no doubt that behind her, surrounding her bed and likely on it was a veritable fortress of chip bags, and empty bottles.

Her hair was twisted into a messy bun on top of her head, with a pout her hands settled on her hips gaze looking down on Lúcio even when she probably didn’t mean to. The expression was gone with a huff and a roll of her eyes as she stated, “Jeez Lúcio way to scare a girl. I was just on my way to check where you were… that and restock on the snacks.”

Hana admitted with a bright and cheery grin totally unashamed and teasing. Lúcio raised an eyebrow in disbelief, knowing it would likely have been another hour before Hana even thought to pull herself from the virtual world and realise that no, Lúcio was not there beside her.

Hana just shrugged with a grin at the disbelieving look, all innocent and smug, Lúcio shook his head in fond amusement. A small question beaded the forefront of his mind and he asked, “Have you already blown through all your supplies? Even the stuff Abuela gave you?”

Hana had the decency to look a touch embarrassed, running a hand through her messy bun with a half-cocked smile. All things considered it was a relatively normal thing for Hana to blow through snacks when gaming, she just adapted a single-minded focus that sometimes ventured into eating, though he was almost certain that this was a new record.

“Well are you going to come to the kitchen with me Mr.DJ?”

Hana asked instead of answered, with a short laugh and a giggle hands planted on her hips stance wide in the narrow door frame. Raising his arms over his head in a flex position he sometimes saw Zarya or Reinhart emulate he responded in a voice that was a whispering boom, “But of course! We must always recharge and maintain our strength!”

They maintained a deadpan expression of seriousness for all of a minute before they were howling with laughter, attempting to be quiet in the hallways even as the noise bounded and echoed along the endless corridors.

Eventually they stifled their laughter to small giggles and Hana spared the thought to temporarily pull him inside and shut the door before they could wake any of the base’s other occupants. They shared one look before they were laughing again. Lúcio’s stomach and chest ached, and his lips and jaw hurt from smiling so much but it was a good kind of pain even as the musician struggled for breath. Taking a few deep breaths Lúcio resisted the urge to look at Hana, knowing that if he did so they would likely never stop laughing.

After finally attaining a semblance of control, the room filled only with their ragged breathing Lúcio looked up eyes bright as the stars and a wide grin curling his lips. A mirroring expression rested on Hana’s daintier features, sated and blissed out, even as she shook her head and opened the door again.

She glanced from side to side head sticking out of the door, before she nodded and crept out like a spy gesturing for Lúcio to follow her. He gently let the door slide shut behind him as he crept after Hana, rolling along at a slow gliding place that was relatively silent as they made their way to the kitchen.

Eventually they arrived at the large kitchen, and the adjourning dining room, that had somehow managed to fit roughly twenty seats around a table so that they could all eat together (of course that was a near impossible thing). Lúcio shook his head thinking of the many already strange dinners, and the wide variety of food that was served. Reinhart’s food had been to die for, Angela on the hand, without guidance was a disaster waiting to happen.

As they approached they heard muffled whispers and the shuffle of clothing, there was a faint hint of gunpowder and smoke in the air, and it was a smell that Lúcio had come to associate with Mcree. Sure, enough if he listened attentively he could hear the man’s favoured southern drawl, accompanied by a low sharp voice.

At the entryway still pivoting in darkness, Hana turned back, rolled her eyes and mouthed, “Gay dads”

Lúcio raised a hand to cover his mouth hiding his laughter, lest he make any noise and disturb the two. He knew who the others man was, of course it could only be Hanzo, who else could he have expected. It was no secret to the rest of the base that they were meeting in the kitchen at night, and that they both were infatuated with each other but far too damn stubborn to act on it.

One of their gaming sessions with Genji had been filled with the younger brother’s complaints about the oldest, and for once it was about Hanzo’s obliviousness, as supposed to his occasional remarks about a lack of heart, or strange bewilderment about the older brother he was re-acquainting himself with.

After a minute where Lúcio was sure Hana was debating flicking on the light and demanding food anyway (as she had done before and would likely do again) the voices that had been moderately loud dimmed accompanied by the distancing sound of footsteps.

Hana’s grin glowed in the darkness as she darted in with a flick of the bright kitchen lights. Lúcio shielded his eyes for a moment as he waited for his sight to adjust even as Hana clambered up the counter, and shimmied towards one of the locked cabinets.

The so-called parents of the team had deemed it a wise idea to lock up a cabinet. Inside were various foods that were either the lifeblood of some members and hence kept in case of dire emergencies, or food that should not be eaten in excessive quality by certain members, like Lúcio’s favourite gamer.

Lúcio had been dead surprised the first time Hana had pulled out the certain manoeuvre she was using now to recover (steal) the food and all that it entailed. Now it was a fun pastime to watch, always imagining what Soldier 76 would say if he caught Hana in the act, he would probably be dumbstruck for a few moments before pulling out the dad attitude (or as Hana joked the dadittude).

With a triumphant crow, the cabinet popped open and she raided it pulling out bags of chips and tossing them to Lúcio who caught them with a shake of his head and a fond sigh. The things he did for Hana, or helped her do which could often be more fun. The Korean gamer was fan of pranks, harmless for the most part, but great at devising them. Lúcio was just happy to help her set them up and listen to the laughter they incurred.

She swung down from the counter with a grace that echoed some childhood acrobatics, because being a gamer did not equate to grace. She struck a pose arms raised above her head with a cocky smirk sent the Dj’s way. He laughed loud and full, at the reminder of the earlier session of muscle flexing.

Popping a bubble from the gum she was near constantly chewing, Hana turned determined eyes towards the fridge, which seemed to glow in an ethereal light in the early night. With a sharp shove, the door was open and Hana was rooting through the shelves, pushing aside Tupperware containers and bottles, looting the fridge of all it’s Mountain Dew. Pulling herself from the deep void of the fridge with arms loaded with drinks Hana enacted a salute juggling the cans and bottles wildly even as she pointed the two onwards.

Lúcio left the kitchen knees high, arms swinging, a smile curving his lips. Hana’s laughter echoed behind him, he liked her laughter it was like dew in the mornings, or an arcade all fast and energetic. They marched onwards back in the direction of the gamer’s domain juggling their various pilfered snacks.

They settled into Hana’s room with faint giggles, splaying their nightly snacks over every available surface that they wouldn’t eventually occupy (really it was more of a mountain centered on the gamer’s hot pink bed sheets). Hana had already torn open a chip bag the second Lúcio had looked away; the moment he could return his gaze he saw a quarter of the bag had invested it’s life in her stomach and around her mouth.

Hana settled the bag beside her momentarily and gestured impatiently for Lúcio to join her on the floor where the gaming system and computer screen was resting, consoles carelessly stretched out before it. The screen was already lit up, eerie in the low light of Hana’s room, it flashed relentlessly and asked for a disc. Laughing under his breath at the familiar picture Lúcio skated over and settled beside her, cuddling up to her side with a playful shove; digging his hand into the chip bag with the trademark overbearing crinkle as she tossed him a bottle of soda.

The musician glanced at the screen in interest, wondering what was on the game menu for the evening, one could never know if it would be some silly fashion game (as on a few rare occasions she had pulled out), or the more favoured heavy-duty combat games. Which could be anything from a combat based game, like the certain zombie one Hana liked, or the more story central games.

Hana sensing his curiosity turned and smirked before she wiped her hands off on her bunny patterned pyjamas, winked and chuckled over three-disc cases. The games’ art was emblazoned on their respective covers, in bright flashy colours, and over the top logos. Lúcio looked at the covers with a grin and a few darting looks at Hana before he said, “Man good choice Hans.”

The Korean gamer made a vague noise that sounded something sarcastic, because of course she would have made good choices. And really what else could Lúcio expect of the pro, she was one of the world’s number one gamers, and the fact still stunned him at times. Once in a while he had to take a step back and realize where he was again, and who he was talking to. This wasn’t some community get together over the weekends. It was Overwatch. 

The famous organization that had assembled to combat the Omnic crisis, and had thereafter been disbanded. The re-call had brought old members and new to create a new Overwatch; members who possessed amazing technology, skills, or something else entirely.

Meeting Hana had been a boon. When he had first arrived, he had felt a bit lost, drifting amongst a crowd of new people and an unfamiliar space. His bright personality had won over everyone eventually, but for the first week had been a quiet sort of torture. When he had found out that Hana Song pro-gamer was a member, he had been stunned (and a slight bit ecstatic, he was a bit of a fan). But they had been the only two near the same age, and eventually they had mustered enough courage to spare the passing corridor pleasantries and talk. 

They had clicked near immediately once they had stopped with the shyness, talking a mile a minute about the latest technology and it’s effects on their main industries. They had shared tips and tricks from gaming to music, laughed and joked as if they weren’t two members of an illegal organization. After that it had been relatively smooth sailing with the aid of the Korean gamer.

“Course, I’m a pro selector! Hand me the purple case please Lúc.”

Hana exclaimed with a wide sweep of her arms that had Lúcio ducking for cover and swerving out of the disaster zone (sometimes Hana was a touch over enthusiastic in her movement). Following the gamer’s request, he scoured the growing piles of cd’s and cases that flocked his legs before he pulled out the desired case and handed it to her.

Within a few seconds the game was loaded and a console had been thrust into his hands with a giggle. The screen lit up with the menu, revealing a decaying human; Hana sped through the menu till they were entered in a battle, heedless of Lúcio’s faint protests. They started the game with running commentary for fun (Hana had decided against streaming), criticizing clothing choice, real world physics, and the realism of the zombies. 

They were Just deflating and being who they were around the other, after a long day of missions and the real world. They played the game with relative ease, chatting about inane things, Hana’s top games list, and his next album. It lifted a weight he hadn’t known he had been feeling, taken the edge off of the day and left a soft easy smile resting on his lips.

In the game, his character ducked behind a barrel and crouched next to Hana’s character. The musician had a good vantage point of the incoming mob of shuffling corpses. Hana was mumbling under her breath in a light game mode, occasionally analyzing the playing field and choosing the best course of action. She wasn’t the best for nothing, even when she was chilling she was decimating the playing field. 

Lúcio remembered well the first time he had sat down to game with Hana, it had been utterly devastating if not a touch inspiring to see how easily she wielded the console. The first few months had been tendered under her careful tutelage until he could roughly play near her level, even though it was with no small amount of difficulty.

Eventually the round drew to a violent and bloody end; the horde of zombies temporarily driven back. Hana set the controller down for a minute waiting to restart the next round; turned serious eyes his way, her hands settled on her hips, hair falling in waves around her head casting her like a Valkyrie. She raised her brow and said in a voice that was all demand and gossip, “Okay talk, you’re quiet tonight.”

Had he been? Lúcio shrugged thinking about it even as Hana bounced to her feet and pounced on the remaining snack pile, content to give the DJ sometime to think about it and the answer to such a question. She returned after a few moments, where Lúcio attempted to puzzle out the reason for his mood, accompanied by the clink of glass against glass.

She settled with a dramatic sound effect and a bit of swaying before she cheerily set the polish before her. Lúcio didn’t know when he had finally accepted her offer of the paint job for his nails, he had always been happy to help the gamer when she asked for aid in applying the paint to her hands. But he hadn’t really considered putting it on his own fingernails, not until she had pulled out a shade of green that was just like the one his mother wore in the summer, or like the colour of a frog.

Now it was almost like a habit, she called them ‘self-care’ sessions or something of the like and Lúcio could kind of see it. They sat and cared for their bodies a bit even in a small way, it was healing. Though he wasn’t letting her touch his hair, it wasn’t easy to achieve and maintain the perfect look he managed to whip up most mornings.

A poke to his cheek pulled him from his thoughts and Lúcio raised his eyebrows at the expectant face peering at him, noses an inch apart. Lúcio playfully pushed Hana back, but decided to taunt the woman and remained quiet lips sealed as he imitated zipping his mouth shut and tossing an invisible key.

Hana pouted and playfully kept poking his cheeks, when it garnered no further answer her pokes dropped to his sides, tracing over the sensitive skin there. Lúcio muffled his laughter into his hand as her fingers danced over his ticklish side again; once she found out about his ticklishness, she had made sure to take full advantage of it. 

Randomly she bolted forward tackling him to the ground and pinning him there with her hips as her hands roved up his sides and chased his neck. Lúcio tried to squirm out of her grip, biting his lip to hold in the laughter. Eventually it became too much and bright iridescent laughter burst out from his lungs in heaving gasps and chuckles as he weakly struggled against her in a half-hearted manner. 

Of course, two could play at the same game when Hana was also ticklish. Twisting he snaked his arms up to hook under her armpits and began tickling the gamer sitting on his chest, she rolled off instantly wiggling like an animal. Lúcio turned on his side and continued to tickle her bringing forth soft happy laughter and glowing eyes. The laughter that rounded throughout the room they were in when he attacked was wild and free, fall, and burning leaves.

Hana flipped the tables once more tickling his toes and stealing the breath from Lúcio’s lungs with the increasing intensity of her attacks. Eventually Lúcio seceded calling out white flag until Hana’s devious and tricky hands retreated and she slumped to lean up against Lúcio energy pooling in her shifting form.

Together they laid there on the floor staring at the ceiling in quiet contemplation and serenity as they came down from the rich laughter, and recovered their breaths. Hana shifted a half twitch so that she could face Lúcio, and the DJ mirrored the action staring into warm caramel orbs.

“So, you going to tell me what’s up? Or do I have to tickle you again?”

Hana asked with a wide grin all teeth and curiosity. Lúcio sighed and tapped his fingers against his thigh as he considered the question; it wasn’t like they hadn’t had real talks before; he supposed he could just relate his day, and maybe she could make heads or tails of the chaos.

Hana shuffled forwards and dragged the small pouch of nail polish with her, setting it in between the two and spreading out the colours so that Lúcio (as well as Hana) could see the wide variety offered. Lúcio studied the choices eyes landing on a burnt colour that reminded him of Junkrat’s eyes, and another black like soot that made him think of Roadhog. Eventually his eyes drifted to his favourite colour, and the many shades of green Hana had stocked up on when he finally consented to the polish.

Picking one out he handed it to her, and dutifully held out his left hand when she poked his cheek again. He could feel her staring, eyes drilling into his skull and with a resolute sigh he looked up and answered, “Alright fine I’ll spill, nosy bunny. You know the Junkers yeah?” Hana nodded expression bright with interest and Lúcio continued, “Well after the incident,” 

“Oh yeah the ‘incident’ you were like completely badass scary Luc,” Hana chirped and Lúcio gave her a bland smile and pointed eyebrows before he continued, “- in the lobby I went to check to make sure they were okay.”

“Of course, you did.”

Hana chimed in with a grin, continuing to deftly apply the shiny polish to his nails. Lúcio rolled his eyes at the comment; Hana liked to insist that Lúcio was too soft, he resented the sentiment but also had no basis against it. At least considering how he helped old ladies cross the street in his spare time according to Hana (it was one time).

“Anyways, so I went to their part of the base, the old omnic labs. And well I helped heal Junkrat and then just chilled?”

Lúcio finished with a shrug. Hana pinned Lúcio down with an intense stare, and the musician could just see the veritable storm of questions building behind her gaze. Lúcio obediently gave Hana his other hand when she was finished with his left and leant back on his other palm carefully with the wet paint.

“Junkrat’s the skinny one, right?”

Hana asked for clarification, Lúcio nodded and she grinned. Curious himself he questioned the gamer, “Have you met the two before?”

The gamer pursed her lips in a faint pout, shook her in the negative, paused and then nodded and replied, “Kind of, we met once with the official interactions. But we’ve chatted a few times when they were out in the early hours of the morning.”

Lúcio grinned at the thought of Hana sneaking around and encountering the two giants. Those keen eyes landed on Lúcio again seeming to see something Lúcio wasn’t even aware of, and she asked, “So you were just chilling? What did you think of the two?”

“We were just chilling,” Lúcio interjected with a defensive squawk to Hana’s amusement, he continued with a soft glare her way, “Honestly, Junkrat and I just talked about his bombs and my music, and then I went and sat with Roadhog. They’re pretty cool, Roadhog’s really quiet and calm, and he likes classical music, which is really cool. Junkrat’s… well explosive? Just you know crazy? But in a good way.”

Hana laughed and sent him a wink at Lúcio’s description of the two Junkers and his struggle to describe Junkrat, because honestly the smaller Junker was a miasma of things. Still Hana seemed pleased by Lúcio’s words, as she handed him a bright pink polish, accompanied by a bottle of black polish. He raised his eyebrows in question and he carefully showed him how she wanted it down as they quieted for a few.

After he started on her right hand, Hana began grinning, eyes darting around she leaned closer in a conspiratorial manner and said in a low whisper, “Did you know Junkrat’s the same age as us?”

“What really? I would have thought he was older?”

Lúcio responded with wide eyes, as he snatched back Hana’s hand from where it had been drifting away. Attempting to paint Hana’s nails was always a struggle. She grinned and nodded excitedly as if sharing the most daring information in the world.

Lúcio studied the gamer with a sceptical look and leaned back on the palms of his hands for a moment and asked, “How do you even know that?”

Hana puffed up, tilting her heads upwards as if to display her superiority, before she slouched and shot him a teasing smirk. Lúcio sunk into himself with a pout directed towards Hana and whined out her name knowing she was being unfair.

The gamer giggled, but relented as she returned her hand to his seeking grip and said, “I hacked Athena’s system.”

“What how!?”

Lúcio jerked upright, eyes wide in astonishment. While Hana was an excellent gamer she was most certainly not a hacker capable of breaking into Athena’s systems (she could hack cheat codes and the like, and even smaller things. He had witnessed it before).

Hana shook her head in amusement and reached behind her to pull out her phone and typed away with one hand as he finished the other coat of polish. After a minute, she turned the phone towards him, on the illuminated screen was a video, and staring out at him was a pretty familiar wicked face.

“You learned from Sombra?!”

Lúcio questioned a touch hysterically, wondering if Talon had somehow lured over his favourite pro-gamer; perhaps with the enticing promise of unlimited Doritos. Hana laughed at his be speckled expression and shook her head before responding, “Relax, it’s just an online video she posted of how to hack things… surprisingly she has a whole blog about it. Regardless don’t worry, it only worked cause I live here.”

The tension in the DJ’s shoulder vanished, and with a relieved sigh Lúcio deflated and regarded Hana with an exasperated stare. She just pet Lúcio on the shoulder in a semi-comforting gesture eyes wicked from where they peered out at him.

“Still he’s the same age as us, we should totally get him to play videogames with us.”

Hana stated in a serious manner, stern as an elementary teacher, before she started cracking up at her acting. Lúcio had to fight to stop her from messing up the nail polish even as he joined in on the laughter.

“I doubt Junkrat even knows how to play videogames Hans.”

Lúcio said after they had settled from their laughter. She whipped around to stare at him, and flashed him a sickly-sweet smile before responding, “Neither did you.”

“Oh, burned better get me some ice, buns.”

Lúcio responded after grimacing and staring offended for a minute. Hana laughed at the sass and dry sarcasm in Lúcio’s response even as Lúcio finally sealed up the polish and she took her hands back to carefully air dry the wet paint.

“We can always teach him.

Hana responded idly as she studied the paint job, before flashing Lúcio a pleased and impressed smile. Lúcio nodded at the idea, a mirroring grin of his own settling onto his features. It would be nice to hang out with the younger Junker, and Hana at the same time. Though he felt a shiver of trepidation at the thought of the two of them together.

The female gamer smacked his shoulder with a grin, and mouthed, “Don’t worry” even as she dragged him back to the consoles and tossed him a bag of chips. Her hand was already invested in the contents of her own bag.

A new game loaded up as they traded quips about the game, and Hana grilled Lúcio on information about the Junkers’ workshop and what he had done while there. In return Lúcio asked after afternoon, listening idly as she described bugging Jessie and following Angela around. He settled back with a grin as the game started, Hana grinning excitedly. It would be a long night, but a good one.

X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Note I used the Spanish term for Grandma which is Abuela when talking about Ana, I feel like Jessie probably taught Hana the term/name and it stuck.
> 
> Well I hope you all enjoyed this chapter from Lúcio’s perspective. It was fun getting into his mindset, and playing with the interactions between the DJ and Hana. I don’t know when next I’ll update but I’ll try to get it written soon. Thank you for reading, reviews/comments are always appreciated!


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